Shattered Memories
by ShanaAlvarado29
Summary: The sequel to Valiant Heart. Two years following the death of the former King Louis of Bourbon, Atemu Santiago becomes the target of a new sort of enemy. A phantom from the long forgotten past of the once Yamir Rodriguez, Atemu must learn to face a horrifying past that had given birth to the Reaper of Barcelona.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the characters from the anime. I do however own the Tide Whisperer, the Reaper, and a few OCs. **

**A/N: For all those who have already read the first portion of Shattered Memories, this is just a revision of the other story. I hit major block on this story, and therefore I took it down to edit it so that I can get right into the meat of the story. So, this first chapter is the last section of chapter two from the original. If you'd like to re-read it, you are more than welcome. **

**Shattered Memories is rated M for language, violence, homosexual sequences, thoughts, and citrus later on. If you have not read Valiant Heart yet, I advise that you do for this to make much sense. ^_^ Please enjoy and I'm sorry for the inconvenience. **

**A huge thank-you to Michael O'Conner for agreeing to help me type this story. Last Wednesday I had Carpal Tunnel reversal surgery on both of my wrists, and therefore I have trouble typing for long periods of time. So thank you for your help, Mikey. You're awesome! **

* * *

**Prologue**

Atemu Santiago stood down in the cargo hold with a parchment of paper one hand, braced upon his forearm, a pheasant-feather quill in the other, and a small jar of ink tied to a leather strip on his belt. He pointed the tip of his quill at the first already opened crate, and Ryuji quickly pulled the lid off. He counted up the remaining supply of beef jerky, and he added the full quantity of jerky in one other full, un-open crate. He wrote the number onto the paper on the parchment before moving on to the next few crates of pickled onions.

By the time he and Ryuji were finished tallying the supplies, Atemu figured they had about an extra week's worth of rations, but it wouldn't hurt to make a supply run sooner than that.

The water they kept on deck was only down to three barrels, and although at face value that seemed like a lot, when used by a crew of seventy-two men, it wouldn't last long.

He capped the inkpot and slipped the quill into a silk pouch tied near the pot on his belt. He thanked Ryuji for his assistance, tucked the parchment under his arm, and climbed the ladder up to the main corridor that would lead to him eventually to the main deck.

* * *

Atemu found Seto in the galley, dining on Ryou's beef stew, biscuits, and a bottle of rum.

"Captain, may I have a moment?" He called out.

The pirate looked up at Atemu and cocked an eyebrow in inquiry, wordlessly permitting Atemu to continue.

"I just made a note of our remaining supplies and realized we're running a little low on jerky, rope, water, canvas, rum, and most all of the food." He announced and set the parchment on the table in front of Seto so he could read.

Seto's eyes skimmed over the numbers and swallowed the mouthful of food he had been chewing, to a drink from the bottle, and then replied, "Meet with Tristan and Malik and figure where it would be best to dock and at the earliest we can drop anchor."

"Ai, Captain."

He left the parchment with Seto as he turned on his heels and walked back out of the galley.

* * *

"Well, at the moment, we're right around here." Malik commented as he circled a small patch of ocean on his map that was roughly about two days away from any form of land. "Judging by the recent windbreaks, we could possibly reach Portugal in another day or so."

Atemu studied the map for a moment, taking in Malik's hypothesis while considering their limited supplies.

"We can dock off in Lisbon." Atemu touched his finger over the Portuguese wharf. "But we need to start budgeting on how many supplies we have, especially the water."

"Most of us can hold off on bathing for the most part before we get to Lisbon." Tristan suggested.

"Would that really be a wise decision?" Malik challenged with a lift of one eyebrow. "More specifically, would you like to bunk in the same room as Jounouchi, who hasn't bathed already in the last three days…and you want to hold off for another couple?"

Tristan paled slightly over the thought.

"As unappealing as that thought may be, it won't be necessary to cut off entirely on using the water in that way, we'd just have to be extremely mindful of how much we have left. What we could do is use one of the barrels for each crewmember to bathe tonight, and after that we'll hold off until we dock." Atemu finally concluded.

Tristan sighed in relief.

"So, it's settled then? We're heading for Lisbon?" Malik asked.

Atemu nodded, "I'll clear it with the captain, but I'm fairly sure that he won't object. So, set a course for Lisbon, Portugal." Atemu confirmed, and the meeting was adjourned.

* * *

Seto listened to Atemu as he explained the outcome of his meeting with the crew's navigator and Tristan, who frequently took up the helm. He cracked a smile when Atemu told him about their decision on having each crewmember bathe that night, and what had brought them to that decision.

When Atemu was finished, Seto watched as he rested his back against the wall on the outside of the galley where the younger man had stopped him on his way out. Seto couldn't help but notice how tired he looked, and the unconscious weary sigh added more to the pirate's concern.

"Well, since that's taken care off, come with me." Seto said as he gestured with a nod off his head and started walking toward the door leading to the living quarters.

He heard the unconsciously stealthy footfalls of the younger man walking close behind as he led Atemu down into the small room that the crew used as a bathhouse.

Atemu quirked an eyebrow, but Seto gestured without a word toward the short wooden stool in one corner. "Strip and have a seat." He ordered in a no nonsense tone of voice.

Although Atemu bristled slightly at the tone in the pirate's voice, he obeyed. He shrugged out of his black midriff vest with brass button, unbuttoned the front of his crimson tunic and slipped it off of his shoulders.

Atemu had grown darker from the continued exposure to the sun, and his once copper-gold skin was now a burnt olive. He wore his hair in a queue at the nape of his neck, and his torso and was lined with slightly lighter olive scars. His sculpted torso and washboard abdomen was slightly aglow from a thin sheen of perspiration from the heat.

He unclasped his belt and dropped it onto the floor atop his discarded tunic and vest before he unbuttoned his black trousers, toed off his knee high leather boots and slid his trousers down his slender hips, his long, toned, supple thighs, calves, and stepped out of the leggings one foot at a time.

Standing in all of his youthful, lethal beauty, Seto still was amazed at how no matter how many times he saw Atemu like this it was as if it were the first time. His heart quickened a bit before it drummed low in his chest, his blood burned and began to pool in one specific region on his body.

Atemu raised his arms a little in a gesture that said, "Now what?" _As if he needed to ask…_

Seto nodded once again to the wooden stool and watched with avid concentration as the young man sauntered over to the seat. Even though he hadn't a stitch of clothing on, he still moved with the grace and dignity of a young lion.

He settled onto the stool, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

Seto walked over to the single barrel of water that had been moved into the room upon Atemu's instruction by Ryou, Malik, and Ryuji. He opened the lid and used the accompanying bucket beside the barrel to dish out some of the water before he went over to Atemu and set it beside the stool, behind Atemu. Seto then grabbed a sponge and a bottle of liquid soap, lathered the sponge and without a word, he began to run the sopping wet sponge over the span of Atemu's broad shoulders.

Seto's eyes traced every scar on his young lover, his fingers sliding over the knife wound that Atemu had been dealt during a bar fight in Sale a month after Seto had met the boy, caught Seto's attention. He had been dealt that blow, but had used the same knife that had been buried in his shoulder to kill another man who had been about to kill Seto.

It seemed they were forever saving the other…

He finished scrubbing Atemu's back, and ordered the boy to turn around. When he did, Atemu tried to take the sponge away, but Seto knocked his hands back, "You just sit there and don't move."

Atemu barred his teeth in a silent snarl at being ordered around, but then was distracted by Seto smoothing the sponge across his chest, over his abdomen, and going lower still. He sucked in a breath as the sponge ran over the insides of his thighs, the backs of Seto's fingers brushing across Atemu's manhood. He gripped the sides of the stool and gritted his already clenched teeth together.

Seto smirked as he watched Atemu's manhood start to stir. He had reached the younger man's feet, Atemu was fully erect and panting quietly from resisting the urge to slam Seto down on the floor and tear off his clothes and make rough, wild love. Seto pulled Atemu's hair free of the queue and the thick crimson-tipped ebony strand fell around Atemu's sudsy shoulders, lifted the bucket and poured a little over Atemu's head.

He gasped silently and sputtered as the water got in his face, in his eyes. Seto's slender, tapered fingers were working his hair, making it soapy and smell like pine forests, and Atemu closed his eyes and had to suppress a shaky sigh at how good it felt.

Once again, Seto dumped the water over Atemu's head, rinsing his hair and washing away the soap on his body.

"Now." Seto said, in the middle of a deep inhale, and he grabbed Atemu by his shoulders and pulled the younger man up onto his feet. When Atemu looked up irritably at the possessive handling, Seto's mouth was on Atemu's, both to silence the young man's apparent protests and just because Seto found that rebellious look in Atemu's burning scarlet eyes utterly arousing.

Not to be outdone, Atemu threw himself into the kiss with an enthusiastic fervor, their tongues dueling for dominance.

They parted a moment later, both panting breathlessly and both fully aroused and hungry for the other.

Without another word, Seto grabbed hold of Atemu's wrist, scooped up Atemu's clothes, and the two went quickly to their cabin to pick up where they had left off.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the characters from the anime. I do own the Tide Whisperer, the Reaper, and a few OCs. **

**A/N: I am a temporary cripple and therefore, give a warm round of applause (in my stead) and a gigantic thank you to Michael O'Conner. You have no idea how much I appreciate your help, Mikey. **

* * *

**Chapter One **

Atemu rolled onto his stomach as his eyebrows drew together, his teeth gritted together as the images within his dream closed in on him.

* * *

_Four children were standing in a shallow forest, three young boys and a young girl. _

_An emerald-eyed boy sparred against a second boy in a duel with swords. The second boy was a bit taller than the emerald-eyed boy, and he had golden-copper skin, with thick but short hair, and bright scarlet eyes. This boy's hair was strangely colored, with golden-blond bangs, a wealth of raven hair, and the tips of his spikes were a slightly deeper shade of red than his eyes. _

_The two boys fought ferociously against the other, as if they were long-time, bitter rivals. _

_The scarlet-eyed boy knocked the emerald-eyed boy to the ground before he leveled his sword until the tip pressed lightly against the other boy's throat. _

"_Submit." Scarlet said in a medium tenor voice, thick with a Spanish accent. _

"_Aye…you win." Emerald conceded, and he allowed the scarlet-eyed boy to help him to his feet. "But next time…"_

"_Yami will beat you soundly. Again." The third boy announced confidently. _

_This boy was noticeably older than the other two by about two years. He had shoulder-length white-blond hair that he wore pulled back in a queue at the nape of his neck, light olive skin, and sapphire eyes. He was slightly taller, slightly broader in build than the other two, but he had a carefree, friendly expression in his oceanic eyes. _

_The girl, probably a year younger than Yamir, was looking fondly up at Yamir, her topaz eyes shining with child-like admiration. She too had light olive skin and long, straight white-blond hair, hers running in subtle waves down her back to end at the small of her back. _

_Yamir and the blond siblings didn't seem to notice the dark look in the emerald boy's eyes as he looked at Yamir._

* * *

Atemu's heart leapt into his throat and stuck as he was shocked into wakefulness at the disturbingly all-too-familiar stirring of the demon deep within his soul. His breathing ragged, his entire body covered in a sheen of clod sweat, he shivered violently as though he were suffering from hypothermia even though his core was like a boiling furnace.

The barest hint of pre-dawn gray filtered in through the small window in Atemu and Seto's room in the inn/tavern called Pub Maurice. With the promise of morning only a few minutes away, Atemu figured he had ample time to settle himself before he and the rest of the crew headed out to start collecting their necessary supplies. The Tide Whisperer slunk into the Lisbon harbor a little after midnight, and Seto decided it best to rest the night and wait until morning.

Atemu slung his legs over the side of the bed and threaded a hand through his sweat-dampened bangs, noticeably controlling his breathing for the time being and closely monitoring whether or not the near unbearable heat within him would rise further or recede back into him until a later time.

Atemu tried to stand, but he was still trembling too much to even try and make an attempt.

As minutes passed, each elapsing into the next virtually unnoticed by the young man, the heat finally began to dissipate and the trembling subsided enough for Atemu to get to his feet and went to take a cold bath to rinse away the remainder of…whatever it had been that caused the Reaper to take notice.

It didn't make any sense…two years ago, when the former King of Spain succumbed to the smallpox disease, the Reaper of Barcelona, the darkest, most lethally dangerous facet to Atemu's personality, went into dormancy. For quite some time, even through life and death situations, the Reaper hadn't so much as twitched from within the depths of Atemu's heart. They had believed that the Reaper had gone away completely, his purpose in this existence finished.

So…why now of all times did the Reaper decide to remind them of his presence? What was it about some rather seemingly innocuous dream brought out the savage part of Atemu?

By the time Atemu finished bathing, Seto had yet to awaken, and considering how stressed Seto was lately with the looming threat of English parliament sending fleets of the Royal Navy to hunt down the pirates plaguing European waters, Atemu was unwilling to awaken his lover from a much needed rest, Atemu headed down to the tavern to hopefully rid himself of the lingering concerns he felt from the ripple of activity from the Reaper.

"Rum, straight, and keep them coming."

* * *

Seto's hand snaked out in search of the familiar warmth of his younger lover's body. He growled, half conscious, when his search turned out to be more difficult than originally anticipated. Seto cracked open one eye, squinting as bold sunlight shown brightly, directly onto the pirate captain's face. Once the initial burn of the unexpected mid-morning light, Seto came to the realization that Atemu was most likely long awake by now.

Yawning into the palm of his hand, Seto berated himself inwardly at sleeping in far later than he had wanted to. Sliding out of bed, Seto hastily dressed into a pair of black leather trousers, a crisp, light tan tunic, shrugged into a dark brown leather vest he buttoned only once, and stepped into his boots before raking a hand through his disheveled chestnut locks to maintain some original order before striding from the room in search of Atemu.

* * *

Licking his lips, Atemu was enjoying the slight buzz he had managed to accumulate. He just started to lift his seventh shot of rum to his lips when he sensed someone looming behind him. Slowly setting his glass down, Atemu turned his head to look and found a heavily scarred man standing about an arm's length behind him.

He was about as tall as Seto, and about twice as wide as Atemu, only this man was entirely made of muscle. He was bald; a black eye patch covered over his left eye while a large, jagged scar marked the majority of the right side of the man's face. A single black eye scanned the length of Atemu's lithe form, and Atemu took a wild guess that this man wasn't here to make friends.

"You 'Temu S'nti'go?" The man's gravelly baritone demanded.

Atemu quirked an eyebrow at the man's extreme mispronunciation of his name, "Never heard of 'im." He responded, and then proceeded to turn back to his drink.

A meaty hand clamped down on Atemu's shoulder, causing the glass that was cradled between his fingers to clatter to the table, the liquid rolling out onto the floor. Atemu growled low at the blatant invasion of his personal space, but before he could retaliate, he found himself soaring through the air and barreling into a nearby table, the wood collapsing beneath the combined weight of Atemu and the speed of the stranger's toss.

Atemu shook the daze from the impact away, his body heating exponentially as he narrowed his eyes and unsheathed his dirk from its place at Atemu's waistband.

He rolled out away from the rubble in time to dodge a full-out charge the stranger had begun, propelling himself to his feet. The stranger was surprisingly agile as he stopped just short of the ruined table and pivoted, and a knife was launched out toward Atemu's head. Atemu swept the knife out of midair, the blade of the throwing knife and Atemu's dirk clashing momentarily and then Atemu launched himself to counterattack, easily dodging an uppercut aiming for his abdomen.

Lashing out with his foot, Atemu swept the stranger's feet out from under him, but the man didn't go down, instead he used the momentum of his fall to execute a counter, and ended up landing completely on top of Atemu.

The tavern went suddenly silent as the pair went still, all except for a silent grunt of pain from the smaller of the two. Blood began to pool beneath them, too much for it not to be fatal.

The occupants of the tavern waited to see who had been dealt the lethal blow.

"God damn, you fucking lard ass…" Came a garbled, muffled comment and Atemu used his knee to dislodge the stranger and rolled him away from him, his dirk stuck so deep inside the man's side that the butt of the knife was barely visible.

Atemu clutched his hands at his side, futilely covering a wide gash cut deep into the right side of his abdomen. Atemu's eyes burned deep obsidian and he scowled at the deep body on the ground at his feet.

A prickling of awareness flared from Atemu's side, and the young man turned his dark eyes directly onto Seto, who stood with a thunderous expression on his face as he too leveled a loathsome glare at the dead would-be assassin.

Scarlet bled into the black irises of Atemu's eyes as Seto approached, the pirate captain gently prying Atemu's hands away from the wound in Atemu's side.

It took a lot to make Seto panic, but what he uncovered from under the clasped mocha hands was something that make the color in his face drop and his eyes widened in shock and borderline fear.

Without another word, Seto threaded his way back through the accumulated crowd and up the stairs to their room. Seto reached for the doorknob just as Atemu's body went completely slack and he fell heavily against Seto's chest. Wrapping his arms around Atemu, he pulled his younger lover into the room and laid him gently down onto the bed, hoping upon hope that he wasn't too late.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the characters from the anime. I do own the Tide Whisperer, the Reaper, and a few OCs. **

**A/N: Thank you again, Mikey. This will be this last one for a bit, but I really appreciate your help with these. You're the best, man. **

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Seto couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away from Atemu's rapidly paling face. The gray tinge was rather prominent, and it scared him like nothing had before to think that he might lose Atemu right then.

Mokuba held two fingers to Atemu's throat, feeling his pulse and calculating his heart rate. This was the fifth time in twenty minutes that the young First Mate had done so, and it definitely didn't make Seto feel any better about this situation.

What he wouldn't give for two seconds with that bastard who had done this to Atemu. It was a pity that the Reaper finished him off; Seto believed wholeheartedly that he hadn't suffered nearly enough for what he had done.

"Well?" Seto inquired in an unintentionally harsh voice. Thankfully Mokuba knew better than to take his older brother's tone to heart.

"The wound is repairable, but something is concerning me. Atemu is usually much stronger than this, and faster, and this was a severe wound. Even under the influence of alcohol, I can't quite settle for slight intoxication being the cause for Atemu's lack of finesse."

Seto grunted in comprehension, the sense of foreboding becoming almost suffocating.

Mokuba went to work on ridding Atemu's of his tunic and began cleaning the wound and stopper the bleeding. Mokuba pressed a bundle of cloth towels upon Atemu's chest, ignoring for the moment the silent groan of pain emitted from Atemu, however Mokuba made a mental note that Atemu was at the very least aware of his surroundings. There was still hope in saving him.

While Mokuba tried to slow the bleeding, Seto busied himself with grinding medicinal herbs and seeds and lotions to create the retched pale green paste that Atemu had become fast acquaintances with when the young man had first set foot upon the Tide Whisperer.

Once finished, he slid the bowl over toward Mokuba, who nodded his thanks, dipping his index and middle fingers into the mixture to scoop up a generous amount of the paste and smooth it over the nearest corner of the wound. Atemu's neck muscle tightened so much that his esophagus and arteries were momentarily visible beneath the skin. It was the only indication of how much the paste burned, and this wasn't even the kind with the ginger root that burned similarly to England's liquid fire.

Mokuba was thorough in spreading the paste over the wound. Seto was exponentially relieved to see that the wound was mostly bluster, the blood making the wound appear worse than it really was. In actuality, the wound only cut out about a quarter inch of flesh in Atemu's side, and it wasn't entirely all that deep.

He let out a quiet sigh of relief, but even though the wound itself wasn't too severe, it did little to alleviate Seto's rage at the younger man's apparent ambush.

Mokuba then turned his attention slightly toward his brother, "Hold him upright so I can get the bandages around his waist." He instructed.

Seto strode over to the bed and sat down, one arm snaked under Atemu's shoulders while the other spanned across the younger man's stomach, and gently the pirate captain hoisted Atemu's upper body off of the bed high enough for Mokuba to bind the wound.

Long after he was finished, Seto continued holding the younger man to his chest, his heart in his throat as he felt each exhale Atemu made.

Mokuba scratched at the side of his chin in contemplation as he continued studying Atemu's slackened features. He was still alarmingly pale, but that's to be expected, he lost about two and a half pints of blood.

Mokuba took Atemu's heart rate once more, and then he lit a lantern and held it directly above Atemu's head, the light shining brightly upon the young man's face, and Mokuba carefully pried open Atemu's eyelids to check for any sign of tampering.

Mokuba was at a loss, and he was about ready to admit that perhaps it was simply that Atemu was slightly inebriated by the alcohol and it affected his reflexes, but something seriously was missing from this equation.

"I'm going to go down and see if I can find out anything." Mokuba announced, striding out of the room, leaving Seto to guard the still unconscious Atemu.

* * *

_Damn it all to Hell! _

He was so close; perhaps if he had given him time to drink a little more, then he would've had him. That lousy loaf jumped the gun, and now he'd have to be extra cautious about what moves to make next.

"Fuck." He murmured under his breath as he buried the tip of a knife deep into the surface of a wooden table.

Then, a maniacal smile split the man's face as crazed emerald eyes danced with merriment, "But…you can't evade me forever, you bastard. Soon, I'll will have you…and I will kill you myself if I have to."

The man ducked into an overly shadowed corner of the dining room in the tavern portion of Pub Maurice when he saw the raven haired lad saunter in through the door dividing the tavern from the inn, and he went straight to the barkeep, the boy talking in a hushed tone of voice. He didn't need to listen completely to realize that the boy was getting suspicious as well.

He knew well that this was the young First Mate of the White Dragon pirates, the younger brother of the man who had spirited away his prey.

The man's lips curled down in disgust at the implications of the man's expression at seeing what had been done to that home-wrecking bastard, how angry he had been, and then how terrified he had appeared upon seeing all of that glorious blood running from a borderline fatal wound.

Damn it, why couldn't the lard ass have struck just an inch to the left, then all of his problems would be over.

_Ah well, there's always tomorrow. _

Standing from his seat in the rear of the dining room, the man made his way quickly through the crowd and fled through the door before the raven-haired boy-pirate could spot him.

* * *

Atemu gave a slight groan before his eyelids fluttered and then opened a crack, gazing unseeingly up at the ceiling for a moment before he sought out and found Seto's face hovering just over him. He felt warmth emanating from the captain's body…and he felt as though the Tide Whisperer had run him over.

"What happened?" He asked shakily, shocked at how weak his voice sounded even to his own ears.

"You were attacked and stabbed while you were down in the tavern." Seto replied, sounding gruff.

Atemu narrowed his eyes in thought, but nothing like that came to mind. His mouth felt dry, like it was stuffed with cotton, and his head felt like it was about ready to explode.

The faint light of the nearby lantern sent a lance of pain through his temples, and he threw out a hand pathetically to try and erase the offending light, but came nowhere near touching the lantern.

"By God, turn out the light." He demanded weakly.

Seto turned only long enough to cup a hand over the mouth of the lantern and blew just enough to extinguish the flicker of light on the wick.

"Better?"

"Much, thank you." Atemu replied, turning onto his side and burying his face into Seto's chest.

Seto lowered himself until he was lying flat across the mattress beside Atemu and he tightened his grip around his younger lover his face burrowing in the silky tresses of Atemu's thick, ebony hair, taking in the reassuring scent that was Atemu.

They couldn't tell how long they lay there in the dark like that, but it seemed like mere moments before the hall door flung open and Mokuba hurtled into the room, a second lantern in hand and commanded, "Atemu sit up."

"Hmm?" Atemu murmured confusedly but complied, with a little assistance from Seto.

Mokuba dropped his medical supplies onto the bed and began digging through the contents, pulling out random items, such as a jar of clear, honey-colored liquid, some type of blue-green medicinal leaves, a couple of almond-sized green-brown seeds, a plunger, and the pistil, mortar, and wooden bowl from earlier.

"So, I went down to ask the occupants in the tavern if they had seen anything, and nobody seemed to know anything at all. But the barkeep mentioned a hooded stranger entering the tavern and sitting three stools down from where Atemu had been. The barkeep mentioned that there was one point where when Atemu had turned to confront the stranger who had ambushed him, the man had suddenly up and left. Like he knew something was about to happen, and he wanted to be out of the line of fire."

"But that could also have been a coincidence." Seto pointed out, although he didn't sound at all convincing.

"That's the thing though, if he wanted to get out of the way, like any sane person would try to do, he would have up and left the tavern completely. Well this guy had gotten up, but he only moved down three stools away from Atemu and the stranger."

Both of the older men frowned at this.

While Mokuba was talking, he took of the mortar and pistil and began grinding the leaves and seeds and mixing them with the honey liquid to form a deep brown liquid solution. Placing the tip of the needle into the mixture, Mokuba pulled back the plunger until the tube was a little more than half full. Gesturing for Atemu to give Mokuba his arm, Atemu obeyed, and Mokuba pushed the needle of the plunger into Atemu's arm into the prominent vein on the top of Atemu's forearm before inserting the liquid directly into Atemu's blood.

"The barkeep mentioned that right as the fight started, Atemu's drink had been upturned, and the liquid had gone everywhere up on the bar, so the barkeep wiped it up, and he hadn't washed it yet, so I took a look at it, and by scent alone, I detected a minimal amount of liquid cyanide."

"Shit!" Seto swore viciously in response to the notably lethal poison.

"Seto, I'm charging you with keeping a close watch on Atemu. I don't know how much cyanide was put into Atemu's drink, if he had ingested any of it, or how long the poison was in Atemu's bloodstream. This medicine should be potent enough to reverse the effects and counteract the cyanide, but he needs to be under constant surveillance for the twenty-four hours. After that, he's pretty much in the clear, but until then, keep watch over him and regularly check his breathing patterns and heart rate." Mokuba ordered.

Seto didn't need to be told twice, "Of course."

"That medicine will cause drowsiness, so don't fight it off. You need rest in order for the antidote to combat the poison." Mokuba cautioned, and Atemu nodded in understanding, already feeling the affects of the antidote already.

Mokuba made to clean up his supplies and then started toward the door again, stopping only long enough to push a wastebasket closer to the bed with his foot, just out of precaution.

As Mokuba left the room, Atemu slumped back down into Seto's arms, and Seto guided them both down onto the bed. Within moments, the younger man was breathing evenly as sleep set in, but there would be no rest for Seto that night, even if he wanted to join his lover in sleep.

Lighting the lantern and turning the flame down slightly so that it didn't shine quite so bright, Seto settled in for the long night ahead.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the characters from the anime. I do own the Tide Whisperer, the Reaper, and a few OCs. **

**A/N: Surprise! update. I know, ya'll were probably not expecting me to update anytime soon, if you know that I am currently working in Yellowstone and have limited internet access. However, I got my hands on a laptop, and my hands have thankfully healed up so I won't have to bother poor Mikey with having to type this all out for me. So, without any further ado, I present chapter three of Shattered Memories. **

* * *

**Chapter Three**

As dawn broke the next morning, Atemu's condition had considerably gotten worse. His breathing was shallow and sporadic, he was running a dangerously high fever, and his heart rate was galloping far more rapidly that than could ever be healthy. Since he had fallen asleep, Atemu hadn't even stirred, or made any noise, or gave any sign of regaining consciousness.

All things considered, Seto should feel glad that Atemu was still alive; for how much longer that continued to be true was yet to be determined.

Seto never left Atemu's side except once to use the chamber pot, and although he was exhausted, he didn't dare succumb to slumber for even an hour, Atemu would slip away forever.

Adjusting his position, Seto cradled Atemu's sweat soaked form in his arms, his back up against the headboarde, one arm supporting his unconscious younger lover while the other held a damp, cool cloth to the younger's forehead.

_ I won't lose you...not now. _

* * *

_ Images of a time Atemu reconned he should've remembered took up residence in the young man's unconscious mind. _

_ He saw his master, Solomon from his childhood home village in Spain...but the scenery didn't seem quite right. For one thing, Barcelona wasn't quite so green._

_ The younger version of Yamir Rodriguez and Master Solomon were riding horseback down a gravel road, emerald green grass and trees surrounded them on all sides, a nod to the approaching spring season. From the looks of the luggage slung across the horses' withers, they were planning on staying wherever they were headed for quite some time. _

_ That scene faded out, replaced by an image of Yamir and a strange blond boy, both were in a grassy pasture as the pair grappled with each other good-naturedly. The blond had Yamir pinned on his back, his knees on either side of Yamir's waist. He had a cocky grin on his face that merged into arrogance as his mouth moved to form inaudible words. Whatever he said, it didn't go over too well with Yamir, because his expression turned severe with irritation as he renewed his efforts to get free. Somehow he hooked one leg around the blond's shoulders and shoved him back, rolling so that he now had the blond pinned beneath him. _

_Oceanic blue eyes shone bright with merriment and delight as he laughed heartily. Yamir soon joined his apparent friend, falling over onto his back beside him. _

_Again those images fled and a new one appeared. This showed Yamir as a young teenager of thirteen, shirtless and drenched in sweat as he pounded the mallet held in his right hand onto the red-bladed cutlass he was forging once more before plunging it into a vat of water; steam arose from the water, along with a low, drawn out hiss. _

_Yamir suddenly turned to find the blond boy from his earlier and an equally blonde girl of twelve years came into the blacksmith shop. _

_"Crispin, Anya." Yamir greeted as he removed the cutlass from the water and placed it onto the slone table in front of him, "What brings you here?" _

_Although the newcomers replied to Yamir's inquiry, the audio faded out again, leaving only vague recollections of the boy's, Crispin's, medium tenor voice and Anya's sweet soprano. _

_Whatever they said surprised Yamir, and the young teen turned and picked up his discarded tunic and pulled it over his head before turning and running out of the shop behind Crispin and Anya. _

_"Enough!" _

_Atemu jerked at the snarled order from a deep baritone that sounded suspiciously like Atemu's own. He turned within the now-blackened void of Atemu's unconscious mind toward the direction of the voice. Atemu paled considerably at what he saw..._

_Standing eye-to-eye to Atemu was the Reaper. Atemu took an unsteady step back as his body began to shiver at the abrupt frigidness around them. _

_"I thought hell burned hot from everlasting fire." Atemu commented, off-handedly._

_"It does; we're not in hell, kid. This is your soul." The Reaper repled, his baritone lacking it's previous severity of his anger, but it did still have an underlying growl to it. _

_The Reaper did not look like a demon at all. He was like an angel personified...cold and wicked and lethal, but still beautiful. _

_He stood even in hieght with Atemu, with long white-blond hair that flowed down his back and restrained into a severe braid. He had deep tawny skin that emanated an ethereal sort of white light, and his eyes were not the long-assumed obsidian, but rather a deep, midnight blue shade. Clothed completely in black, he was an exceptional creature to be sure. _

_"Shouldn't you be more...I don't know, uglier?" Atemu couldn't help but wonder aloud. _

_This made the Reaper laugh, a bloodcurdling sound that chilled Atemu to the bone immediately. _

_"Lucifer himself was one of the most beautiful of God's angels, was he not?" The Reaper said after he calmed a little, shrugging, "I suppose I take after that theory." _

_Atemu finally recovered from his shock at seeing the Reaper face-to-face. _

_"Why are you here, Reaper?" Atemu demanded. _

_The demon sighed, long sufferingly, "You are one huge pain in my ass, boy. Can't you stay out of trouble for once?" _

_"I've managed just fine these last few years. I'm asking you, why are you here?" _

_The Reaper's eyes flashed to the usual obsidian that he had become so used to, and it didn't bode well for Atemu. _

_"You were never to come back here." The Reaper growled vaguely, "You were to stay far away from this place. You tread on turbulent ground, and you will not make it out of this port alive without me. So I suggest that you take a better tone with me." _

_"What do you mean, what is so significant about Lisbon that would make you reappear?" _

_"If I didn't know you had forgotten it all, I would question your intelligence. Nothing about Lisbon, per se, has triggered me revival Atemu. It's what has been buried here for the past nine years that seeks to be the end of you." _


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the characters from the anime. I do own the Tide Whisperer, the Reaper, and a few OCs. **

**A/N: Hello people! I'm back once again. Mwahaha! This is turning out to be a repeat of Valiant Heart...well, sort of. Valiant Heart was written in 21 days, and I updated two-four times in one go every couple of days. This is the sequel, and I'm starting to really get into this. So anyway, there is one thank you that I'd like to throw out there. Mister Mikey has made his way up here to Yellowstone Tuesday, and he brought his laptop with him. I used to have limited internet access and had to share one bloody computer with whomever else lived in my dorm here, but now, all thanks to my best friend, I can update my stories without a restraining timeline. So, here we go. **

**Warning! There is a lemon in this chapter. So if you don't like it, don't read. **

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_Atemu froze as something began tro stir in the back of his mind at the Reaper's solemn declaration. His head began to ache in earnest and he clasped his head on either side of his head to stop the pain, to no avail. _

_"Stop it..." Atemu croaked, almost pleaded with some imaginary force to take the pain away. He felt as though his skull was slowly being split in two, and he gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes closed tightly to ward of the agony he was suddenly submerged in. _

_"Dreams aren't supposed to hurt...this is all wrong. What's happening...to me?" He demanded to know._

_The Reaper's face split as a malevolent smile curved across his lips. _

_"Oh Atemu. This is no dream. You're dead." _

* * *

Seto felt Atemu exhale one final time before his body fell still and silent.

"Atemu?" The pirate murmured as he gave the younger man a sharp shake. "Damn it Atemu, don't you die on me!"

Frantically, Seto rolled Atemu onto his back and began to try and resuscitate him, but as the minutes rolled on, Seto's eyes began to prickle with moisture. Atemu's burn olive skin was slowly beginning to develop a grayish tint, and he was rapidly becoming cold as ice.

"Atemu!" Seto roared as tears fled his eyes and his heart seemed to shatter from the weight of Seto's agony.

The door to their room was flung open to reveal Mokuba and Tristan standing in the doorway. Their expressions turned ashen at the scene they found.

Mokuba strode forward and reached out to touch Atemu's body, but he jumped back when Seto let loose a feral snarl and pulled Atemu close to his chest, "Don't touch him!"

He feared that should any other person confirm what Seto already knew, it would destroy him.

"Brother...?" Mokuba whispered.

A heated glare was his reply before the pirate buried his face into Atemu's hair.

_Please...don't you dare leave me like this. Come back._

Seto wasn't a religious man, but for the first time in his life, he found himself praying to whichever deity wi\ould listen; _Give him back to me!_

* * *

_The Reaper cocked his head to the side as if listening to a voice that only he could hear. After the demon's abrupt announcement, Atemu had gone numb in his disbelief. _

_"Isn't that fortunate? Sounds ike someone is asking for you." The smile slipped from the Reaper's face, "I will give you one last chance, but you'd better not mess this one up, or I'll personally drag you to hell with me." _

_Atemu stumbled back a couple of steps when the Reaper lunged at him. The demon grabbed Atemu by the shoulders and he bit down hard onto Atemu's neck. Pain the likes of which Atemu had never experienced before exploded inside of him, and he howled as his body felt like each pull of blood the Reaper took was torn from him. _

_The Reaper caught the young human in his arms as he collapsed into unconsciousness. _

* * *

Atemu woke with a sharp gasp as his soul was slammed back into his body.

Seto lifted his head at the sound and a relieved smile crossed his lips, lifting the devastated expression from his features. Seto then felt enraged at being so terrifed and he reacted by slapping Atemu across the face, hard.

"Ah! What the hell?" Atemu demanded, rubbing the stinging flesh of his cheek.

"Don't you _EVER _scare me like that again!" He shouted.

Atemu's expression fell as he finally took in the entirety of Seto's agony, and noted the tears that still ran down his face. Averting his eyes as guilt slowly began to nag at him, he sighed and nodded wordlessly.

Seto stood and started pacing the room, trying to work out the last of his frayed emotions as he fought to regain control of himself. Atemu watched for a few minutes, and then he sighed and stood, striding so that he was in Seto's path. He placed his hands on Seto's shoulders and stared up into the pirate captain's deep blue eyes that shown black in the darkened hotel room.

He said in a low voice, quiet and soothing, "See me? I'm all right, Seto."

Seto gritted his teeth as the touch Atemu gave burned through the material of his tunic and straight into his skin, causing his heart to pound away furiously in his chest, and a deep-seated ache he hadn't known he could feel for anyone...even for Mokuba...threatened to choke him in its vice-like grip.

"Seto." Atemu called out, this time more firm, but no less soothing, "Look at me, Seto. I'm not going anywhere. I'm alive, I'm still here." He grabbed Seto hand and pressed it against his chest over his heart, "Feel that?"

The pirate made a low sound in the back of his throat, like a strangled groan, feeling the firm, strong pounding of Atemu's heart beneath his hand, at feeling the scortching heat of the younger man's skin that had been so cold just five minutes prior. In that instant, all of his hard-won restraint snapped, and as fresh tears filled his eyes, Seto leaned down and crushed his mouth down on Atemu's with a desperation that was heartbreaking.

They fed on the other man's desires, their tongues and lips hungrily drinking in the passion and tenderness of the other's kiss. They held onto each other for dear life, fearing that even the slightest distance between them would cause the other to disappear again.

Parting only for breath, Seto's eyes traced Atemu's sharp features, familiarizing himself with every curve, dip, and line. He stared long into those glorious scarlet eyes and felt the fist of his residual anguish over almost losing Atemu vanish, replaced by the spurring need to reclaim him as his own once more.

Neither remembered who had moved first, but suddenly they were tearing at each other's clothes, trying to destroy the last remaining barrier that kept them from being able to experience the othe in their full glory.

Seto backed Atemu up against the wall, the faint light of the lantern glowing healthily off of Atemu's burnt copper skin. Seto's mouth descended upon the sweet spot at the crook of Atemu's neckwhile his hands scored burning trails down across Atemu's broad shoulders and tapered waist, paying particularly close attention to the younger man's nipples, twisting and pinching and rolling his fingers over the left, and then the right, while hisogres hand reached Atemu's waistband andtire away the leather belt andreeked open the buttons hush is trousers. The material pooled immediately at Atemu's feet, and Seto dropped to his knees before taking Atemu's pulsing manhood into his hand. He stroked it a few times before pulling the member into his mouth.

Seto set a slow, rocking rhythm, his mouth sucking deep as he relished the muffled cries Atemu gave off at Seto actions. Seto dropped his left hand, which was still toying with Atemu's nipples down to cup the younger man's sac, massaging it and Seto heard a low thump as Atemu's legs buckled from the intense pleasure of the act, had the wall not been there, Atemu would've fallen.

"Ah, Seto. Mm...God that...ah!" Atemu gasped, having difficulty projecting full sentences while his body was under such a delicious assault from Seto's mouth and hands. "Mm...yeah."

Seto chuckled, sending a jolt of white-hot pleasure shooting through Atemu's groin and curling up in his abdomen, which was beginning to tightening in that tell-tale way that signaled his orgasm was close. "Seto, stop. I...I'm going...going to AH!"

Atemu's hand shot up, his teeth clamping down on the knuckle of his index finger as Seto slammed down onto Atemu's member and triggered the younger man's climax. He drank deep from Atemu's essence, still mystified at the surprising sweetness that was Atemu.

"Going to what?" Seto wondered with a mischeivious grin on his face, and when Atemu glared down at him, Seto licked the last trace of seman off of the corner of his lips, making Atemu groan at the sight.

Seto rose and kissed Atemu, his hands going go his belt to removed his own trousers, while Atemu tore open Seto shirt, the buttons snapped off and scattered over the wood of the floor. Seto threaded his arms through the sleeves of his tattered tunic and left to fall to the ground to jodiscard and Atemu's discarded clothes.

Seto hooked a hand beneath Atemu's knee and lifted until the you get man hooked it around Seto's waist. On top of the bedside table was a small bowl of oil, which Seto dipped his fingers in, rolling the tips of those first three digits together to test the thickness and the slickness of the liquid. He lowered his hand to Atemu's entrance. The position Seto held him in spread Atemu wide for him, and after the pirate ran the pad of his finger around the ring of muscle guarding Atemu's most intimate place, he slid one long, tapered finger deep into the younger man's body, eliciting a delicious moan of pleasure from Atemu.

Seto slipped in a second finger almost immediately, the oil allowing the larger intrusion to become easier. Seto scissored Atemu's channel, preparing the younger man. His fingers brushed lightly over Atemu's prostate, and the younger man jumped and gasped low and breathlessly at the white-hot pleasure of the motion.

"Again." Atemu ordered.

Seto closed his eyes and groaned silently at the husky quality that he heard in Atemu's deep voice. He gladly complied, if only just to hear Atemu's voice sound that way again. after another few minutes, Seto slid a third finger in to test Atemu, then withdrew. He lined his own hardness up with Atemu's entrance, and he slid in with little effort, and no pain.

Atemu wouldn't let Seto pause after his intrusion, as he usually did to allow him to adjust. He was far too impatient to feel that glorious pleasure Seto had dealt to him. He rocked himself up against Seto, and with a moan of his own, Seto took the hint and pulled out almost completely before slamming into the younger man once more. Atemu met him stroke for stroke and suddenly they were a mesh of flesh, sweat, and limbs.

Atemu wrapped his other leg around Seto's waist, opening himself wider for Seto, and using the wall behind him as leverage, he rode Seto hard and fast.

"Ah, Atem." Seto gasped as he buried his face into the crook of Atemu's shoulder wrapping his other hand beneath Atemu's other knee and then turned and dropped them onto the bed.

Never once parting, Seto slammed into Atemu again and again, sending waves upon waves of intense heat coursing through them both. Kissing Atemu deeply, Seto reached up to tweak a nipple and Atemu jerked and cried out into Seto's open mouth, a second orgasm claiming him and draining him dry of both energy and essence.

Seto gave three more powerful thrusts, but the tight constriction caused by Atemu's orgasm had the pirate following closely behind Atemu. He burrowed his face into Atemu's thick hair as he emptied himself into Atemu's body.

Panting from exertion, Seto held Atemu tightly against him, breathing in the reassuring scent that was Atemu, his mouth watering as he picked up traces of his own scent mingled with the younger man's.

"I thought I lost you." He murmured, his voice cracking as the memory of that excruciating agony he had felt.

"You almost did." Was the muffled reply, Atemu's face pressed into the crook of Seto's neck.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"The Reaper met with me in a place that he claimed was my soul. He told me I was never to return to Lisbon, that I had memories here that have been buried for nine years, and that those memories seek to destroy me. Then he mentioned someone was calling for me...and then he...he bit me." Atemu's hand reached up to clutch the left side of his neck.

Seto lifted his head to see the spot as well. Even in the dim lantern light, Seto could make some sort of black mark on the younger man's neck. He batted Atemu's hand away and then turned up the flame in the lantern for a better look.

There were two small black puncture wounds on Atemu's neck, and out from them, like tentacles, were eight jagged stripes that resembled the heads of a scythes that curled around both the front and back of Atemu's left shoulder and along his biceps and neck.

Seto went cold at seeing that mark. In his desperation to get Atemu back, Seto hadn't exactly been specific about who should have brought him back to life. In so doing, he may have just damned Atemu, selling the younger man's soul to a ruthless, purely evil demon.


End file.
